


Guilty

by dearsnart



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Barry Allen Whump, Bondage, Bottom Barry Allen, Gay Barry Allen, Good Parent Joe West, House Party, Hurt Barry Allen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Joe West, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:28:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27465694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearsnart/pseuds/dearsnart
Summary: It was supposed to be a fun night. What could possibly go wrong on a birthday party? As it turns out, a lot.
Relationships: Barry Allen/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 46





	Guilty

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, hello. Second of all, I KNOW that I haven't updated Silver Fox in like forever, but I'm working on it. In the meantime, here's a one-shot that I wrote at like 3 am. 
> 
> Also, thanks to K for the beta read! You inspire and help me so much with my writing, it's insane.

“You look exhausted.”

Barry wasn't the type to go out and party. Not at all. He would much rather stay home and play cards with Joe, or watch low-budget movies with Iris, just to criticize the horrible acting. But today, it was Mia's birthday.

Mia was a school friend of his. They weren't that close, but they talked every now and then, and they always teamed up for projects in chemistry class. How could he miss out on a birthday party? There’s a whole table of delicious snacks, and Barry was not one to pass up an opportunity like that.

“...what?” 

The brunet slowly blinked his eyes open, only to be met by one of his classmates, Richie. Barry didn't know him all that well. They only exchanged like five words over the last year, but even through his foggy mind, he could recognize that face.

Richie let out a soft chuckle, “I said you look tired. You fell asleep on the couch. I think you should lie down a bit, what d'ya say?”

“Oh... uhm, I'on know...” 

Barry had no clue why his words were so slurred. Was he really this tired? How did he manage to fall asleep in the middle of a party? The loud music and the flashing lights should have kept him awake, and yet, here he was. 

Richie leaned down, and threw Barry's arm over his shoulder to haul him up from the couch. “Come on, mate. Let's get you some rest.”

Something was wrong. 

Barry couldn't say what, but he had a gut feeling. He was so deep in thought that he didn't even respond, he just stumbled along with the guy. It was weird. The whole situation was just somehow off. He felt drunk, but he only had some apple juice, and even then, only a cup. So why did he feel like this? 

“Watch your step,” Richie warned, as they started walking up the stairs. 

Since he barely had any energy, the brunet leaned against his classmate, and allowed himself to be lead upstairs. He felt like maybe he should just call Joe and go home, but as he opened his mouth, he found that he didn't have the energy to use his voice. Maybe Richie was right. Sleeping should help a bit, and then he would call Joe and go home. 

“Come on, I'll help you.” 

Richard lead Barry into Mia's room - it was surely hers, considering the pink interior. He sat Barry down on the edge of the bed, and gave him a reassuring smile, before closing the door behind them. “Let's get those shoes off, hm? You wouldn't want to get her bed dirty, would you, Barry?”

Everything felt so alien. There was just such a weird feeling reverberating in his chest, but he didn't have the power to question the situation. He slowly nodded to what Richie had said, and watched as he crouched down to pull off his shoes through his half-lidded eyes. 

“There we go.” 

Richie put Barry's shoes next to the night stand, making sure to handle them delicately. That was nice of him. “Oh, you're sweating. Hold on, let me help you.”

Was he? Barry didn't feel like he was sweating. But maybe he was, who knows. He was way too tired to try to figure out if he was warm or not, so he simply allowed Richie to unbutton his cardigan, and slide it off his arms. Richie carefully folded it up, and hesitated for a moment before bringing it up to his face and deeply inhaling its sweet scent.

Barry let out a sleepy chuckle, his lips tugging up into a smile. He found that funny. It was so weird that it was funny. He didn't know that the guy could be this funny. 

Richard glanced over at Barry and placed the folded up cardigan on the nearby chair. “You smell good,” he pointed out calmly as he wandered back to the door. He pushed the little button on the doorknob until it clicked - it was locked, but it didn't register to the boy sitting on the bed.

“Huh...” Barry mumbled, “I di'nt... know that. I jus' shower. Nothin' extra.” It was nice to make a small talk. It eased his nerves, that were screaming at him for god-knows-what.

“Oh yeah? And what soap do you use?” Richard calmly made his way back to the bed, and sat down right next to Barry. “It smells awesome. May I?” 

Without even waiting for an answer, he leaned in, and pressed his nose against Barry's neck, deeply inhaling his scent once again.

The absurdity of the situation, mixed with the drug that was slipped into his drink, made Barry giggle once again. “I, um... 'think it's like... green. Th' color... maybe blue...”

“Yeah, and what's the brand of it?” Richie asked, as he slowly trailed his nose up to the brunet's jawline. 

“H'um... is' like a...”

Barry's thoughts were interrupted by the hand on his chest, that effortlessly pushed him down to lay on the bed. The uncomfortable feeling made him let out a drunken snicker again, but he was starting to feel like the joke was getting old. ”Is' not funny...” he slurred out, before letting out another chuckle. He pressed his hand against his classmate's face, but he was way too weak to push him away.

At that, Richard grabbed both of his wrists, and pinned them down on the bed next to his head. He got on top of Barry and smirked down at him, before speaking in a smooth voice. “Do you want to play a fun game?” 

Barry was so lost at that point. The position that he was in felt really wrong, but Richie's words helped to reassure him that they were just messing around. He wasn't sure what was wrong, but whatever was clogging up his mind, probably made the situation scarier than it was. He shouldn't overreact. “Mm, sure...” 

Richie got up, and walked over to Mia's dresser. He started searching around hurriedly, then returned with a belt in his hand. “Point of the game is, I tie your hands together, we set a timer, and see how long it takes you to get your hands free. Sound good?” 

Barry closed his eyes, and slowly nodded his head. The guy's words barely registered, but he knew that it was a game, so he didn't mind. He was so tired, that he didn't open his eyes, not even when Richie got on top of him again. He chuckled when he felt his classmate roll him onto his side, then he could feel his hands being pulled behind his back. There was some shifting around, and then he felt the belt being wrapped around his wrists in some weird loop. He frowned a bit when the belt was pulled so taut, it nipped at his wrists.

He rolled onto his back and opened his eyes to give a sleepy glare to his friend. “Ion' like t's game... you pull’d tight, it hurts m' hands...” 

Barry squirmed around a little bit, only now noticing two things. 

One, Richie was almost completely naked, aside from his boxers, that did a poor job at hiding his erection.

Two, he was unbuttoning Barry's jeans, and pulling them off in that very moment.

Wait, what?

“Richie...” he muttered, as he tried to push the other boy away with his feet. “S'tp it, is' not funny...” 

“I'm not joking.” 

The way Richard said those words clicked the emergency button in Barry's head. That cold, husky voice sounded so blank, so evil in that moment. The alarm immediately went off, but it was oh so late now.

He could feel as the other man pulled his jeans off, the tenderness from before long gone. No folding up his clothes, no reassuring words. He did the same to Barry's boxers - just simply yanked them off, and tossed them down onto the floor. 

Barry's heart was beating so fast. He could hear his own heavy heartbeat in his ears, and in all honesty, he had no idea what to do. He still felt so weak, he couldn't just get up and run. He doubted that he could even make it to the door. Maybe he could talk his way out of this. It was worth a shot.

“No, wait...” he slurred out. He couldn't think. His mind was full of racing thoughts, but when he was about to say something, it just went so blank. He was helpless. 

Richie leaned down and placed a deep, hungry kiss onto Barry's lips, then grabbed the boy's legs, and pulled them up so that Barry had his own knees pressed against his chest - thus exposing his desperately clenched hole. 

“Rich...” Barry breathed out, and started trying to squirm away, but to no avail. “Nghh... n-uh, please... no...” 

The guy didn't care. He pulled off his own boxers just enough to free his bulging erection, and started stroking himself, getting ready for the action. “Don't fight this. I don't have any lube, and if you clench, it's just gonna hurt more.”

Those words made Barry choke out a sob. That was the first verbal confirmation to his foggy mind about what was going on, and it made him panic even more. He started moving his legs around to try to kick the other boy, but Richie held his legs in place. “No, no, no, no... p-please... no, R'chie, please...” 

The man stopped, and looked around. Was he stopping? Was it over? Did he change his mind? Thank god, now he just had to call Joe, and never talk to this guy again.

Barry let out an involuntary moan when he felt something being stuffed in his mouth. It felt like some sort of cloth, but he didn't see what it was. He really needed to stop closing his eyes. 

He reacted, and automatically tried to push the cloth out of his mouth with his tongue, only for Richie to press it deeper into his mouth. The act made him gag, but thankfully he didn't throw up. Instead, he clenched his eyes shut and turned his head to the side as he began coughing, to try to make up for the constant irritation in the back of his mouth. 

And then, a stabbing pain.

At first he thought that he got stabbed for real, with an actual knife. It felt like a knife was being pushed up his asshole, but when he looked down, he saw that it was in fact Richard's dick penetrating his ass. It was unreal. He didn't even realize that he was screaming until he ran out of breath, and had to quickly inhale through his nose. His scream was muffled, and the loud music playing downstairs made it almost impossible for anyone to hear him.

Barry's chest was rising and falling quickly, and he had a hard time trying to catch his breath through his nose. He watched Richard intently, but the guy's hips stayed in one place, probably waiting for Barry to calm down a bit. It still hurt like hell, but it wasn't as bad as before.

That was until he started thrusting.

Barry screamed again, and threw his head back, watching the ceiling in terror. He was being stabbed over and over again, and with each thrust, his vision darkened even more. Black spots started covering the ceiling, and soon enough, all he could see was darkness. The noises around him slowly faded away. The loud music slowly quieted with each passing second, along with Richie's pleased groans. Within the matter of a few seconds, all he could hear was the high pitched ringing in his ears. 

Maybe it was better this way. He didn't have to watch or listen to what was being done to his body. He just wished that the pain would stop. Even though he was almost fully unconscious, he could still feel the continuous, stabbing pain. He was pretty sure that he was still screaming, considering that vibrating feeling in his throat, but he couldn't even hear it anymore. He wished that his body would go numb as well, but the pain was too strong.

He had completely lost sense of time, but at some point, he could feel a warm liquid trickling down on the inside of his thigh. At first he thought that it was the other boy's cum, but a second later the metallic smell hit his nose - it was blood. His blood. He tore.

Even if he tried, he couldn't tell how long it was going on. He was slipping in and out of consciousness, and even when he was awake, all he could do was stare at the ceiling. At some point, he stopped screaming, as he had gotten used to the pain. His hole was stretched out by then, and the blood acted as a lube, almost. 

It didn't even register to him when Richie came inside of him and pulled out. He was awake at that moment, and he could hear and see, but his mind was simply so blank. 

He could hear as Richie got up and walked into the small bathroom attached to the bedroom. He heard the water running for a bit, and then it stopped. 

Richard cleaned himself up, washed off the blood from his deflating erection, then walked back into the room to get dressed. “You up?” 

How could he ask that so calmly?

Barry continued staring up at the ceiling. He heard the question, it just didn't register that it was targeted for him. He started slowly chewing on the cloth in his mouth. It didn't taste good or anything, he just had the sudden urge to chew it. Maybe it would help somehow.

Apparently, Richie had enough of the silence, because he grabbed the brunet by the hair, and yanked him up into a sitting position. “You see that? You see all that mess you made?” 

Barry had just been pulled back into this reality when he was sat up, and the first thing that he was greeted with was all the blood underneath him. He couldn't believe it. There was so much, how did all of that come out of his hole?

“This is your friend's bed right here. You see what you did to her sheets? You should be ashamed of yourself, Barry. I told you not to clench, and you did. Now look at this mess, you bitch.” 

Without any warning, Richard shoved him back down on the bed, and pulled the cloth out from his mouth. The fact that it was pulled out so suddenly made Barry gag, and before he knew it, his mouth was filled with vomit.

“Not on the fucking bed!” Richie yelled, then grabbed Barry by the arm, and dragged him over to the window. He opened it with one swift movement, then made Barry bend over - just in time. The young man immediately threw up, but it all landed outside on the grass. 

“Stupid bitch,” Richie growled, before laying a hard smack on Barry's abused behind. He flinched, but he didn't cry, which felt like a small achievement. Not that it made him feel any better, though. 

After some moments of just being bent over with his head hanging out, Barry realized that Richie was not standing next to him anymore. He could hear his classmate moving around in the room, getting dressed - judging by the sound of his belt buckle. 

A few seconds later, Richie was behind him again. Barry expected another slap on the ass, but instead, he undid the belt that held Barry's wrists together so tightly, and yanked the poor boy back from the window. “Stop acting so pathetic, man. You wanted this.” 

You wanted this.

“I...I did?”

Barry's voice was so small. So broken. He was at such a low point mentally, that he believed it. He was not himself, after all. Maybe in his confused state he agreed.

“You asked for it, Barry. Don't you remember? You begged me to fuck you, and since I’m so nice, I did.” 

Those words left him absolutely baffled. It was true, wasn't it? He probably asked for this. He was stupid, and he asked for it, and then he had the audacity to play the victim. Disgusting.

He could feel himself being shifted around, but he was too deep in thought to realize what was going on. 

He asked for it. 

“Quit staring at the wall and put on your fucking cardigan already.” Richie hissed, before tossing said clothing against Barry's chest.

Barry looked down at himself, only to find that he was now dressed. He didn't even notice when that had happened. It was probably Richie who helped him. That was nice of him.

It took him a few seconds to register the other man's words, but soon enough he slowly slipped into his cardigan. Richie was there a second later, crouching down in front of him and sliding the shoes back onto Barry's feet. He was being nice. He helped.

So he  _ had  _ asked for it.

Richie tied Barry's shoe laces for him, then grabbed his arm, and pulled the limp boy up from the bed. “Stay still,” he ordered, and let go of his classmate's arm. 

Barry wasn't sure how, but he did. He felt like he could collapse at any moment, and yet, he managed to stay upright. It felt like a miracle. He slowly turned his head and looked over to what Richie was doing. He seemed to be rearranging the bed sheet and taking it off. “Man, you're lucky it didn't get on the blanket,” he mumbled, as he folded up the bloody sheet. He fixed the bed to make it look normal again, then walked back to Barry, and pushed the soiled, folded sheet against his chest.

“You take this, and you throw it in a dumpster on your way home. It was your fault that it got messy, so it's your duty to get rid of the mess.”

Barry nodded with a blank mind, and held onto the sheet, now folded, and hiding the blood stain in the middle of it. He stared at the wall on the other side of the room, only to feel a hand clamp down against his neck. He felt himself being shoved up against the wall, so he closed his eyes. He just wanted this to be over.

Richie gently squeezed Barry's throat, and admired that pretty little face for a few seconds, before pressing their lips together in a rough kiss. The boy didn't even fight back. It was ridiculously easy with Barry. He was so naïve, it was honestly adorable. He left his cup on the table when he left for the bathroom, it was like he was asking to be drugged - and who was he to say no to an offer like that? 

To be honest, Richie didn't neccessarily think of himself as gay. He was mainly into girls. He hardly ever got boners for guys. But Barry? He had such feminine features. That baby face, with that smooth, milky skin. Those plump, pink lips. Those pretty, long lashes. His cute little ass, and those long legs. Not to mention he always smelled so fucking nice, and his hair was just asking to be grabbed. Everything about him was just perfect, his grades too, and he was so innocent. So pure. He was so fuckable.

After about a minute, Richie finally pulled back, but not without biting down on Barry's lower lip first. Every inch of him was delicious.

Barry felt the other boy wrap an arm around him, and he heard the door's lock click. He slowly walked along to wherever his classmate was leading him, although he had a limp in his step from how painfully his hole had torn.

Normally, he didn't like loud music, but right now, it was hardly noticeable. He kept staring ahead of him with a blank expression on his face, while Richie pulled him through the crowd of people. 

“Barry! I've been looking for you everywhere! You wanna come play beer pong with us?”

He recognized that cheerful voice. It sounded so kind, and just genuinely delighted to see him.

“Oh, he's feeling sick. I think he ate something bad,” came the reply from Richie.

Mia was in front of Barry within a second, with a worried frown on her face. She placed a gentle hand on his face, and usually he would appreciate the affection, but right now, he just wanted to be alone.

“Oh, geez... you do look sick. It's not something you ate here, is it? Hold on, I'll call Joe for you, okay?”

Once again, Richie was quick to reply; ”No, no, it's okay. He ate some mexican food earlier today. I already talked to his dad, and I'm bringing him home.” 

Mia gave a thankful little nod to the other boy, then stepped closer to Barry, giving him a small kiss on the forehead. She knew that Barry was gay, hence why she didn't feel uncomfortable showing him physical affection. “Get some rest, Bee. And text me tomorrow.” 

With that, she was gone. Richard began pulling on him again, and suddenly Barry wished that he said something. He wished that Mia would come back and help him. He didn't feel good around Richie anymore, and he just wanted his friend - his actual friend - to hold him close and tell him that it was going to be okay.

But none of that happened.

He must have lost focus again, because somehow he found himself sitting in Richie's car. He didn't say a word, but nor did his classmate. He knew where Barry lived, since he drove him home once as a favor, so that wasn't an issue. 

The ride was painfully silent. It felt like years until the car finally slowed down, but then again, it also felt like it had been only a second since Mia had said goodbye.

“Now get out.” 

Barry blinked and looked over at Richard in confusion. The drug was still very much working in his system.

“Did you not hear me? I said get the fuck out. And get rid of the fucking sheet.” 

The brunet looked out the window. He wasn't home yet, he was still a good five minutes walking away from Joe's house. He kinda just sat there for a moment, before slowly opening the door. He gave one last glance to his classmate, then got out of the car.

“And don't even think about lying about what happened, you hear me? You asked for this, Barry. So don't go and blame me for your slutty decisions. No one would believe your lies anyways.”

With that, Richard reached over and slammed the car door shut, and drove off like nothing ever happened. 

You asked for this.  
  


“Are you fucking deaf?!” 

Barry's head snapped to the side. He was met with the bright headlights of a car, and a very pissed off looking man standing next to said vehicle. “I've been honking at you for two fucking minutes! You're standing in the middle of the damn road, move your ass!” The man yelled. 

The young man blinked, then shakily made his way over onto the sidewalk. Fuck. He must have lost focus again. He really needed to get home.

Every step that he took hurt, but he had to get home. It was cold outside, not to mention dark, and it must be so late already. Joe was probably worried.

Joe.

Fuck.

What would he think of him if he found out? If he knew that his foster kid was a slut. Because that's what he was. He asked for it. He asked for it at his friend's birthday party. He was a horrible friend, and a horrible son.

Joe couldn't find out. He would be ashamed and disgusted. He would probably kick Barry out for what he did, and he had every right to. Barry would understand. He fucked up, and he deserved to suffer for that. 

It felt like ages until he finally got to the front door. The lights were on, so Joe was still awake. He hoped that he would be asleep by now, so he had some time to collect himself until morning. He didn't want to face Joe right now.

He pulled out his keys from his pocket, and lifted his shaky hand up to the door. It took him a few seconds, but he inserted the key into the lock, and slowly opened the door.

“There you are, kiddo!”

Any hopes that he had about sneaking up into his room without being noticed were dead. Joe heard him come in. 

“You're late, you know that?” 

What should he do? Should he make a run for it and lock himself into his room? Should he just turn around and leave? He certainly didn't deserve to have this man’s roof over his head right now.

“You want me to microwave some dinner for you?”

As much as he knew that he didn't deserve anything good anymore, he found himself slowly stepping into the living room to face Joe. He wanted nothing more than to curl up in his dad's arms.

Joe was sitting on the couch, his eyes on the tv. He was watching some cooking show to spend the time while he waited for Barry. He was wearing his sweatpants with that worn out t-shirt he used as a pajama shirt, with his favourite dark blue robe over all that. Good old Joe. The man who gave him nothing but love, and this is how Barry behaves? He didn't deserve to have a family anymore.

Joe looked over at his son, his eyes slowly widening. It didn't take a detective long to figure out that something was wrong. All it took was the senses of a caring father. “Bear? What's wrong?” 

Barry swallowed, and continued staring at Joe. His vision was blurry by now from the unshed tears, but he still had that blank look on his face.

Joe quickly reached for the remote and turned the tv off. “What are you holding, Barr?” 

Holding?

The young man looked down, only for his eyes to widen in shock when he realized that he forgot to get rid of the sheet on his way here. He was so stupid. How could he forget? 

“This... I didn't... mean to... I wasn't supp'sd to bring it home...”

Joe got up, and slowly approached his son. “Hey...” he called out in a gentle, soothing voice. He could tell that something was wrong with what Barry was holding, judging by the way that the boy was gripping it.

“Let me have a look at it, alright?”

Upon seeing Barry's panicked expression, he placed a reassuring hand on his son's arm. “Hey, it's okay. It's okay, Barr. I want to help you, okay? I'll just take a quick look at it.”

Those words seemed to easen up Barry a little bit. He stopped looking panicked, and now he just looked defeated. Ashamed, even.

Joe carefully took the folded up sheet from Barry, and unfolded it with one movement. His eyes trailed down, and he could feel his heart skip a beat when he saw the blood stain. It still looked fresh. He looked up at Barry with a shocked expression, but managed to keep the panic in his voice to a minimum. “Who's blood is this, Barr? Is it yours?”

Barry looked down at the floor, and after a few seconds of agonizing silence, he slowly nodded his head.

Joe was usually good at keeping calm in stressful situations. He was a detective. But when it came to his kids, all of that was thrown out the window. All sense of peace was gone, because the moment that someone hurt one of his kids, he wanted to go out and hunt down whoever did it.

He folded the sheet in half and put it down on the edge of the couch, before stepping over to Barry and gently cupping the boy's face in his hands. “Who did this, Barry? What did they do to you?” He asked in a low voice.

Barry closed his eyes, and the tears that had been just sitting there were now rolling down his cheeks. He leaned his head into Joe's gentle touch, before speaking in a small, trembling voice. “I'was my fault...” 

Joe shook his head a little bit, then gently nudged Barry over to the couch. He sat down with his son, before pulling the brunet into a warm embrace. “I'm here for you. Barr... whatever happened, you can tell me. You know that no matter what, I'll always have your back. Always. Nothing can change that.” 

Barry stayed still for a moment, before hugging back, and pressing his face into his father's neck. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, but soon enough, he burst out crying. “He s-said we were jus' playing!” He sobbed out. 

Joe held Barry close, and began gently rubbing his back. “And what did he do instead?” His voice was calm and collected, even though he had never felt more outraged. Someone hurt his son, but he couldn't lose his head. Not yet. 

Another sob shook Barry's body, but between a lot of sniffling and gasping for air between little sobs, he managed to choke out his words. “H-h... s-said we... playing a g-game... we-we were in M-Mia's room b'cuz I was feelin' sick n' he t-told me t' lay down... n' h-he locked the door, 'n... said we... we were playing a game... n' jus' t-... t-tied my han's, a-and... I-I a-asked him t' st'p but he kept doin' it n' I just bled down there, n' h-he... w.. we had s-sex, but I-I didn' mean it, Joe... he s-said I 'sked for it, but I'on remember a-anything...”

Joe felt the genuine rage fill his chest.

He wanted nothing more than to find that son of a bitch, and rip his heart out with his bare hands. But right now, he had to stay calm. He had to calm Barry down before he did anything. 

“Shhh, it's okay now...” He murmured in a calm voice. He placed a gentle kiss on the boy's head, and continued gently rubbing his back. “It wasn't your fault, Barry. He lied to you, son. He wanted to confuse you when you were vulnerable, but I know you better than anyone else, Bear. What he did to you was not your fault. Okay?” 

Joe pulled back from the hug, only to gently cup his son's face in his hands. “Hey, look at me. Open your eyes, Barr,” he spoke in a soft voice.

As Barry slowly blinked his puffy eyes open, Joe's theory proved to be true. “Your pupils are dilated. He must have drugged you at some point, that's why you can't remember much,” he observed quietly, before brushing the young man's brown locks back from his forehead. 

“Barr, listen to me. And listen close, okay? He lied to you. He drugged you and he took advantage of you. What happened tonight was not your fault. Even if you agreed beforehand, which you didn't, he should have stopped the moment that you told him to stop. You were in no state to give consent, and the blood on that sheet shows just how much he hurt you. So don't ever think that it was your fault, not even for a second, son,” he reassured. “Look. Barr, we need to get you checked out at the hospital. You were bleeding, and you probably still are. You could catch some nasty disease from this, so we need to go and get this checked out tonight.”

Barry kept his eyes open, but he had to blink quite often to get the tears out of his eyes. He tried to keep his sobs to a minimum so he could listen to Joe, but when the man was done talking, he leaned right back into his embrace, and continued sobbing. He was still hurt, and so upset from what happened, but he knew that he was in good hands. And just knowing that after what happened, Joe still loves him, that felt like a heavy rock was lifted off his chest. Maybe it wasn't his fault at all. Joe is usually right about everything, and what he said made sense. “Okay…” he mumbled in a small voice. He was not very happy with the idea of having to tell this to doctors that would run tests on him and look at his private parts, but he also didn’t want to risk something worse happening. 

Joe pressed another kiss onto the top of Barry's head, and held him close. He knew that they eventually would have to go to the precinct and report what happened so they could catch the guy, but in that moment, he wasn't a detective. He was a father of a very scared and hurt boy, who needed him right now. He didn't care how long he would have to sit here and rub Barry's back. He would do it until his hand fell off, because he just wanted his son to be okay. “I love you, son. I love you so much.” 

“I l-love you, Joe...” he muttered, shifting around to get more comfortable in his father's embrace. His sobs had calmed down a little bit, and he was starting to feel sleepy, but he didn't mind. He felt safe in Joe's arms, and in that moment, it was all that mattered. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are VERY apperciated. If anyone is interested in seeing my sappy coldflash content, my instagram is @dearsnart.


End file.
